You're Falling
by QuartzApple
Summary: When Deidara, former terrorist, is forced into joining Akatsuki, he wasn't expecting his partner to be difficult to get along with. Sasori wasn't expecting his new partner to be such a brat. A mission changes everything and suddenly, they're falling.
1. Just a Rumour

**You're Falling – Chapter 1: Just a Rumour**

**A/N: Hello! For those of you who have not found this story via author alert, ergo do not know who I am, I am QuartzApple, a huge pervert who supplies pornography to underage girls. No, I am not a paedophile, I'm a 16 year old girl from England so I have no excuse for bad spelling and grammar. It's nice to meet you. Welcome to my new Naruto fanfic, for the pairing SasoDei. Right here I would like to inform you that this is all Nychta's fault, because she started talking about it and I can't get it out of my head so I have to write it before I have a stroke. This will be another long fic, so stick around. This is kind of sort of a companion fic to 'Buried Alive', which is an Ita/Sasu fic I recently finished. You don't need to have read it or anything; it just follows the same timeline. If you're familiar with my other fics, you know I like to update once every 24 hours – considering I have another fic on the go at the moment, I won't say it will be definitely once every 24 hours for this fic, but I'll try. I'm a busy little lady, yeah? Once again, we will have 'song of the chapter' going down because it's cool. Evidently. Today, we've got the highly inappropriate song 'Sexy Bitch' by David Guetta…because I'm feeling inappropriate. Don't let that put you off though! This is a deadly serious fic! I like to write about serious shit, yeah! That's totally me. I like to write from 1****st**** person point of view, but I will probably end up skipping between Deidara's and Sasori's points of views in this. This chapter is Deidara's PoV.**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warning: This is where I tell you the 'adult' content of the fic. Since you're here for the yaoi (probably), I'll tell you now: there will not be sex until later, although there will be many adult themes. For example, drinking, prostitution, terrorism, violence and death. And later, sex. But for now, nothing because I've read too many fics which turn Deidara into a whore for no adequately explained reason. A lot of swearing this chapter, and Hidan isn't even here yet!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto because I am not Masashi Kishimoto. If I did own Naruto, it would not be a shounen series anymore…hehehe…more like shounen-ai. Actually, scratch that – hardcore yaoi hentai! It's so exploitable! Not that you should sue me or anything. Please don't sue me.**

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_She's nothing like a girl you've ever seen before_

_Nothing you can compare to your neighbourhood hoe_

_I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl_

_Without being disrespectful_

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

The bar was disgusting. It was closer to a brothel than a bar, considering how skimpily dressed the serving girls were, and how the entertainment consisted of bass-heavy electronica pumping out of the crude sound system for the dancers to move to. It was noisy, with the clinking of glass and the jeering of men, their harsh voices shouting, heckling and propositioning the girls in turn. The room was filled with smoke, both from the cigarettes clenched between pairs of teeth and the dying smoke machine in the corner.

I flipped my hair and climbed back onto my table as the song changed. For tonight, I was one of the dancers. Normally I would tell anyone who based me in a whore house to go screw themselves, but I really needed the pay from this job. Clay was hardly cheap outside of Iwa, and the really fine stuff was expensive. Naturally, only the finest would do for my art.

The song picked up the rhythm, and I copied the motion of one of the girls across from me, swaying my hips and writhing back and forth. My arms painted some kind of picture above my head, occasionally sweeping down to caress my own body, over my chest and down my hips, brushing across my lips and catching between my teeth as they worked their way back up.

"Hey cutie," One particularly vile man yelled at me through the racket. "How much for a blow out back?"

"Fuck you," I snapped back, in character down to my voice. "I'm not one of the hookers, un,"

"Then what the hell you doin' on a table, bitch?" He reached a grimy hand out to touch my bare leg. I skipped back a little, dancing on my toes on the far edge of the table. If he tried that again he'd get a foot to the face.

"Dancing, un," Not really by choice, although despite the reek of the bar and the groping of the customers, it was actually quite fun. The music was bad, but it had a heady beat I was already lost in. Still, it would be over soon, and then I could get back to-

Get back to what? It's not like I had a home to go to anymore, and considering the head count of my last job, I was more than fair game for any hidden village-affiliated ninja. This job would tide me over for maybe a month if I took the money and ran, skipping out to the next village or town and lying low for a while until the money started to run out again.

I grinned and flicked a lock of hair back over my shoulder, winking at a group of patrons across the room. One winked back, and I looked away quickly, pretending not to have seen. Unlike the girls here, I wasn't for sale.

The song ended, and I sank to my knees on the table, catching my breath and tugging down my offensively skimpy shorts. Just because I was pretending to be a whore didn't mean I wanted to show my ass to the world. Whichever girl my employer had stolen this outfit from was smaller than me, and the clothes clung tight to my body. I had torn strips off the shirt, tying them around my hands even though the fabric tasted like sweat and booze, uncomfortably stifling the mouths on my palms. Fortunately, the seven inch heels were the wrong size, and apparently more than one patron had some kind of foot fetish.

"Yo! You, new girl! Get your ass over 'ere, the boss wants a word with you!" The bartender yelled, her high pitched voice squeaking through the general din. I watched with a smirk as a guy at the bar slipped a kunai through the strap holding her dress up. Karma is such a bitch.

A new song started, and I walked with hips swaying in time to the rhythm towards the door besides the bar. I dodged a couple of wandering hands, side-stepped a puddle of vomit and pushed the door open with my shoulder. I grimaced at the stickiness of the paint, hoping to god it was just alcohol.

"What, un?" I said bluntly, kicking the door shut behind me and pulling the shorts a little lower on my hips. The room was much like the front room of the bar; all dark surfaces, sticky with spilled drink and other, more unmentionable fluids, dark floors and plush furniture stained with vomit and drink. Everything stunk of tobacco. A tall, portly man lounged on the central chair, nursing a beer.

"I'm stepping the plan up," My employer, a Fuketsu, mumbled. He never spoke clearly; an unlit cigarette stayed perched between his lips, which he never took out. "I want you to blow the shit out of the place tonight,"

"What the hell, un? You told me I'd have two weeks to prepare, get a feel for the place, and strike at the best time. If you want a high body count, then you need to strike when the time is right, un," To be honest, I didn't care how many people died, I was just interested in the explosion. I didn't even know why Fuketsu wanted to blow a series of buildings up, and I didn't care as long as I got to practise my art. I lived for the high that ran through my veins faster than drugs when I detonated my clay bombs, the heat of the fire and the pulse of the pressure wave. Unfortunately, small-scale jobs like this one weren't really worth using up too much clay on a big explosion with a proper pressure wave, so I'd have to make do with just fire and a very satisfying _bang_.

"I don't give a fuck about that anymore; I just want the bastards dead," He muttered. A bead of sweat rolled down his bald head, skirting the line of a tattoo that ran from the back of his head to his eyebrows. It was some kind of gang sign, and my job was vaguely related to wiping out a bunch of his rivals, but that wasn't important. I was getting paid, and getting high.

"Fine. Whatever, just pay up now, un, and we won't have a problem," I held out my hand, raising an eyebrow. Changed plans cost money. It's bad practise to change right before, although I felt the first stirrings of elation in my gut at the prospect of the next explosion.

"Half now, half later," Fuketsu bargained,

"All now or I won't detonate a thing, un. Be grateful I'm not charging more,"

"Fine, fine, bitch," He muttered. My other eyebrow joined the first. This guy did know I was a man, right?

He got up from his seat and turned to dig underneath the cushioning. While his back was turned, I let a tiny clay caterpillar crawl out from the hem of my shorts towards the row of chairs, concealing itself in the plush folds of fabric. I resisted the temptation to grin, imagining this idiot's face when he realised what I'd done.

"If you want me back out on the floor, you'd better hurry up, un," I said, tapping my foot like I was watching a sulking child.

"You want paying or not?" He snarled. I rolled my eyes, tempted to detonate the caterpillar just inches from him and watch the pretty red spray across the room. Unfortunately, it would also blow up my money, which I needed more than my high. "Here. This is all of it, so blow the fucking place up already!"

"Thank you, Fuketsu-sama, un!" I called girlishly, snatching the bundle of money off him and tucking it in the too-tight waistband of my shorts. I winked and strutted out, waving backwards at him. Since he would be dead within the hour, I could flirt with impunity.

I made my way back to my table, one hand on my money the whole time. Someone's hand reached for my bare thigh, and I danced to the side to avoid it, knocking my shoulder into someone's drink. The sour, sticky liquid poured over my top, staining my hair with blue. I grit my teeth and pressed on, trying to ignore the slight sting of the alcohol fumes as they reached my eyes.

I mounted the table for one last dance, lightly waving customers away from the table as I climbed up, trying to cover as much of my ass as possible. I squeaked as one hand collided with my upper thigh, my eyes widening a little at the contact. That was the part I hated. I was _not_ a whore, and I was going to kill them all.

From my vantage point of the table, I could mark out every location where I had concealed a clay bomb, infused with my chakra, just waiting for detonation. I had to stop myself from grinning; this place was going to be beautiful art. One by the bar, two in the left corner, one beneath the pole stage, and now there was one in the back room. It was overkill, considering the power of the bombs, but it was such _fun_!

I leapt onto the table properly, converting my excitement into movement. My motions became more and more erratic as my hands itched to form seals, legs kicking sporadically as hands moved towards my ankles and bare legs. I covered as much of my face with my hair as possible as a grin crept across my face. These sick suckers wouldn't know what hit them.

I risked my cover, leaping over the heads of the patrons towards the door, darting around the guards and avoiding yet more grasping hands.

Once outside, I moved across the street towards the opposite building, digging around in a hole I gouged in the fronting. My hand closed around a clay bird. Not bothering to hide my grin anymore, I walked down the street, the music from the bar following me like a bad smell. Although I was barefoot, I barely felt the rough road under my feet, or the shards of broken glass I stepped on. I was too full of the pre-art high, itching with anticipation. I tore off the strips of cloth around my hands, wiggling my fingers and rubbing my palm-mouths over my shorts to try and get rid of some of the taste of cheap drink.

I made a couple of hand seals, infusing the clay bird with chakra and forcing it to grow. The road was mostly deserted, and anyone else around was too drunk to care. Besides, most of them would know who I was shortly – if they didn't become a part of my latest artwork.

I climbed onto the bird and let it take me into the sky. The night was cold, positively freezing compared to the heat of the bar, but I hardly noticed it. The goosebumps spreading across my skin were for what would come next, not the weather.

Once I reached a relatively safe distance, I didn't miss a second. I made the release seal and shouted, "Katsu!" and stared straight at the bar. There was a burst of light and the windows blew out, cracks appearing in the roof before it fell in, being consumed by the fireball of the explosion. People screamed, the explosion boomed, and I laughed hysterically, patting the money at my hip. Smoke wafted upwards, filling my nose with the acrid scent of my success.

For a second, I was complete. I was elated from the adrenaline, my mind and body running at double speed.

A series of chakra signatures immediately began to approach the area. Just like my art, the happiness was fleeting and momentary, but worth every second.

I threw one last look at the remains of my art, then flew away. I didn't feel like dying tonight.

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

**A/N: Well that was longer than usual…oh well, I got it down, baby! Excuse my incredible lameness. That over, if you want more please review. Reviews make me happy, and happy author = more fanfiction. Right, off to write my other ongoing, [insert shameless plug here]… Oh, a couple of notes for your continuity. This is all set pre-timeskip in my slightly messed up version of canon, so the main characters of the series (i.e. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura) are all 13, if you read 'Buried Alive' you may recall that Itachi is 18, which makes Deidara 16. Creepy, huh? Right here I would like to point out that in Japan, the legal age of consent is 13, which makes it perfectly okay for everyone to have sex with each other regardless of age. Reviews make me a very happy crystalline fruit!**


	2. When We're Bad

**You're Falling – Chapter 2: When We're Bad**

**A/N: As promised, I'm updating within 24 hours! Yay for me and my speedy updates! I have carpet burned my elbow pretty badly, which makes it painful for me to type because I can't rest my arms on the desk like I normally do, so I'm typing at half speed :( curse the Oreo that rolled under my bed! Even if you were delicious! So, thanks for the reviews…all three of you. But besides that, I'm still writing this. Even if I had one reviewer, I'm writing it because I have a plan, and my plans get followed until they get finished. Song of the chapter is 'The Fight Song' by Marilyn Manson, which is epic and a bit relevant. Anyway, on with the story! Still Deidara's point of view. Oh, and just for pointers 'hitai-ate' is the correct romaji, not 'hitae-ate'. The 'ai' and 'ae' sounds are different. Also, 'ryou' is the currency. I add the 'u' because there's supposed to be a line over the 'o' but I can't remember how to type it :S I am trying to stick as close to the anime as possible in this part, sort of kind of quoting maybe, especially with this one scene that I do…yeah. Okay, forwards, to victory!**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warnings: Swearing warning, terrorism, criminal activity, bla bla bla bad things kids, don't do it. Although no sex yet, because that wouldn't make sense. Please don't take Deidara (or most of the characters from the Naruto series, really…) as a role model for life because being a terrorist is bad, you know. Killing is bad, too. In fact, I think generally being a ninja is frowned upon in polite society. People tend not to like you doing ninja-y things. This also applies to World of Warcraft. Damn you, ninja looters!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters, although if I did…Naruto and Sasuke would be (explicitly) canon, Kakashi and Iruka would be together, Kakuzu and Hidan would be together, and Sasori and Deidara would be together, along with a whole lot of other pairings I support. Basically everyone gets it on, because that's just how I roll, baby. Clearly I do not own Naruto, because none of that has happened yet.**

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_The death of one is a tragedy_

_The death of a million is just a statistic_

_But I'm not a slave to a god who doesn't exist_

_And I'm not a slave to a world that doesn't give a shit_

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

The night air was refreshingly cold against my bare skin as I flew away from the bar, away from the approaching ninja. Before I had even thought of double-crossing that moron I had established my own safe house, far away from the town where the bar was. It's good practise to have a safe house separate from that provided by the employer; if they double-cross you or sell you out, then there's always a place to escape to.

In this case, the safe house was doubly useful. In my table dancing whore costume, I had few places to conceal clay bombs or clay pouch. I didn't even have a place I could strap a regular weapons pouch to without raising a few eyebrows. As a general rule, most ninja don't double up as prostitutes in their free time. I had risked leaving my equipment, one set of clothes and my supply of clay at my safe house. If it was found, I wasn't losing much; even though the clay was expensive, it was replaceable, and I didn't have any personal belongings.

The landscape rolled by, trees becoming denser as I approached the location of my safe house. I passed a derelict shrine, part of a religion abandoned long ago. The Land of Fire was not the safest place to operate from, but the safe house was easily concealed in the forest, and it was close to the nameless town with its disgusting, nameless bar. As one of the most powerful nations, its law enforcement was the hardest to evade, and a kunai through the throat was the last thing I needed.

I began my descent towards a small outcrop of pale rock, shining like a beacon through the black-green of the trees. I kept my eyes open, scanning for anything unusual. I was feeling jumpy without my clay.

I shivered again. The air was ridiculously cold, the wind chilling me to my bones. It was the first sign autumn was approaching, the chill in the air. Of course, my general lack of clothing didn't help. I wriggled my toes, the cool digits rubbing over each other for warmth. I always got cold feet this high up.

The bird dropped low enough to brush the treetops, circling once around the rock before settling to land on top of it. I hopped off it quickly, draining my chakra from it until it became a tiny, lifeless statuette again, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. My feet were even colder on the rock as I slipped across it, not making a sound and I neared the edge. Concentrating chakra to my feet, I crouched and crawled under a vertical overhang, moving forward blindly with one hand outstretched until my fingertips brushed the back wall. I let myself drop, turning in the air in the short space to the ground. I groped around in the dark a little, fingers brushing cloth and sacking, then the cold metal of my lamp.

The cave lit up. Maybe safe 'house' was the wrong word, considering it was actually a cave. It was just big enough for two people to lie comfortably side by side, or for one person and a sack of clay.

I stripped off the hooker's shirt and shorts, digging my own clothes out of the bundle. Green silk over a mesh undershirt, a relic of my days in Iwa. With the fresh fabric against my body, I felt cleaner and more secure. I could really have done with a shower, but caves generally don't come equipped with running water.

I reached into the sack for a handful of clay, gently squeezing it and rolling it between my fingers, kneading chakra into the soft white material through the mouth. The clay was cool against my palm, earthy and stable and right. I loved my clay; it could be normal and inert one minute, then blasting through someone's roof the next. I could mould it into such pretty shapes, although they wouldn't last. My chakra held the shapes of my bombs; heating in a kiln would fracture the sculptures because of the air bubbles I worked into the clay for optimum explosions.

Sometimes, I thought it would be nice to be like clay; mouldable, soft, pure white. But other times, I was grateful I wasn't. I was durable, hardened, and sullied, and that wasn't changing any time soon.

I ran a couple of fingers through my hair and re-tied my old hitai-ate. I wore it out of habit, even though I hated Iwagakure. It held my hair back well enough, letting one long section fall forward to conceal my scope. Just because I wore their symbol didn't mean I forgave the bastards for what they did.

I grit my teeth, compressing the clay in my fist into a tight ball.

No, I wouldn't sit around and feel sorry for myself. I divided my handful of clay up, moulding each tiny ball into a delicate spider, watching them scuttle from my palm towards the entrance of the cave to stand sentry.

The money was still on top of the whore shorts. A thick, solid bundle of ryou, more than enough to last me for a while. I could live quite well of it for maybe a month or two, depending on how much I was willing to spend. I really needed a new pair of trousers and maybe a cloak for the approaching winter, depending on where my next job took me. Food and other necessities would drain a significant portion, but I could probably afford a hotel or inn for a while, provided I stayed in some hole-in-the-wall, out of the way backwater. I really wanted that shower.

My dreams of showering were interrupted sharply. Three chakra signatures were approaching, barely disguised.

I didn't think. I strapped on my clay pouch and crawled out of the cave mouth, leaping between trees away from the approaching ninja. They were gaining on me, moving faster than I could. As I broke the tree line around the old shrine, I shot a look over my shoulder, peering through the trees with my scope. Black figures, three of them, all of varying height. Black cloaks with red clouds.

Akatsuki, but why were they chasing me?

I darted forwards into the open door of the shrine, the doors hanging by their hinges. I couldn't outrun the Akatsuki; there was no choice but to face them. At least inside I had a greater chance of doing some damage to them if they wanted to fight. Adrenaline bubbled through my veins at the prospect of a fight. I almost hoped they would want to fight; I hadn't had a proper challenge in a long time. Perverted old men mistaking me for a woman were hardly difficult to fend off, especially once I opened my mouth. My voice was anything but effeminate.

Statues lined the walls, their crudely designed faces glaring down at me. No wonder this religion had been abandoned; they lacked all artistic ability whatsoever. They couldn't even make their fake gods beautiful. Figures darkened the doorway, their cloaked figures creating menacing silhouettes.

"You're Akatsuki?" I stated as the figures moved closer. One was significantly taller, a large sword strapped across his back. A shorter, slimmer figure stood across from him, eyes glowing faintly. I couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light or some kind of jutsu. The third figure stood between them, short and hunched over. They didn't look like much. "What do I care? You're just interfering with my affinity for art, un!"

"So, this is the kid that's supposed to be my partner?" The middle figure said, turning to face the figure with the eyes. "He's got some fight in him, but he seems like the type that dies young."

"This was an order from Leader-sama, so we have to make use of his abilities," My eyes adjusted to the low light, and I could make out their features better. The eyes of the figure on the left were definitely odd, a scratched out Konoha hitai-ate tied across his forehead. Although his eyes glowed slightly with the jutsu, they were dead and lifeless. His voice was monotone.

"You know about my abilities?" I said, my eyes widening. I wasn't exactly famous; I would be executed if I was identified, but I wasn't that _notorious_. "Who are you?"

"You're a terrorist bomber, known to have worked with various organisations in multiple nations. What kind of purpose is that for a person like you?" The tallest figure spoke. I could make out what looked like fish gills beneath small eyes, and his skin was bizarrely greyish blue.

"Purpose? What purpose, un? I blow stuff up when people pay me to, using my creations, yeah," I dug in my clay pouch, taking out a handful, kneading it between my palms. "Look! There's such detail in the lines that it exceeds two-dimensional form, un. However, that's not all there is to my art. My creations come to life. As a shape, it's nothing more than clay, yeah, but it explodes! When it explodes, it changes, and becomes my art's true form for the first time. The only time you can see my true art is when it undergoes that change, un!

"Art…is a bang!"

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

**A/N: Yes, I'm very bad, but I acknowledge here that it's not good practise to take dialogue pretty much directly from the anime or manga, but I wanted to keep it similar to actual canon. I have edited it, added in a bit more of Deidara's vocal tick because I think it's totally cute. You can check me on this, its close, but it's not copied straight. It's fighting time next chapter! I admit I spent far too long on this chapter because I was busy browsing deviantART for cute/sexy SasoDei pics…of which too many are either chibis or are really random. Just because he's the uke, Deidara is not a girl! Dude! Okay, rant over. Review :3**


	3. Demolition

**You're Falling – Chapter 3: Demolition**

**A/N: Instead of rant at you about my rage at my defeat and the marring of my fabulous skin by my sparring partner (grrrrr I will defeat you next week, Roger, I swear to god!) (sorry, I'm way too…yeah…don't ask. It's one of my things. I have a thing about winning when it comes to my martial arts things. If I don't win, then I get really, really competitive, especially if the opponent bruises me. That's the mark, y'know? I have to do it…it's a matter of pride! I must remove the dishonour of the marks!) Weird habits aside, I present to you the newest chapter of 'You're Falling'. Once again, like last chapter, I will be sticking close to the actual canon thing, basically using what is dialogue from the anime but edited. Which means, action sequence no jutsu! It's time for Deidara to fight (or really, not fight) Itachi! For those of you who are not in the know, I won't spoil it for you, but on the basis that Deidara is a part of Akatsuki, then the outcome is obvious. Song of the chapter is 'Horseshoes and Hand Grenades' by Green Day. Go read the full lyrics and listen to the full song, it's actually epic and highly relevant.**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warning: Violence. And mind fuck, on the part of the epic Sharingan of epic. Oh, and swearing, but that's standard. Dude, if you're not offended by alcohol abuse, terrorism, prostitution and yaoi, then you won't be offended by a little bad language, eh? And since we're cranking it up to proper lemons later, then run away now if me saying 'fuck' gets under your skin. You're here with the knowledge this will turn into erotica, so you probably don't have a problem with a bit of dirty language.**

**Disclaimer: Although my dialogue and action sequence is close to that of the anime and manga, neither of which I own, I am not directly copying it and I do not claim any credit for it. It isn't mine; it all belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, the lucky bastard. Right, don't sue me. Please. I have to go on holiday in a week and a bit, so being locked up or fined a lot of money will really throw a spanner in the works. Also, the trip is costing me (me, personally, not my parents) £800. Plus winter gear. **

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_Maybe you're the runner up_

_But the first one to lose the race_

_Almost only really counts _

_In horseshoes and hand grenades_

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

"Annoying," The short figure grumbled. I twitched, offended, but I bit back a retort. What the hell? My art was fascinating, exciting, _amazing_, not annoying. What did this guy know?

"I'll take care of it," Glowy-eyes said, his eyes flaring red. I couldn't help but stare, transfixed. They were really hypnotising, watching the irises flare from dull red to bright scarlet, three black tomoe surrounding the pupil. If I painted, I would want to capture _that_. Not just the image of the red eyes looking out from under the scratched Konoha hitai-ate, but the deadness in the eyes. I hadn't seen that look in a long time. It was the kind of look old whores who know they aren't making enough money for their next shot have, the kind gang leaders get right before their throats are sliced by their rivals. That kind of acceptance that nothing is worth anything anymore and that the mind behind the eyes is just going through the motions.

I had seen the expression, but never the dojutsu. I had heard of a few with unimaginable power, but I had never actually seen one in action. I knew nothing about this particular ability, so I was fighting blind. But I still wanted to fight. These guys were strong; just wearing the cloak meant you were strong.

"You wanna go?" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls.

"If I win, you will join Akatsuki," He said it like there was no other outcome. I bit the inside of my lip, anger growing in my chest. I was going to blow these guys up and walk out of here a free man, just because this bastard said that. Childish, yes, but that wouldn't stop me.

"Don't underestimate me or my art. My ninjutsu is nothing short of pure art, yeah!" I threw the bomb already in my hand towards my opponent, following with my visible eye as he jumped back. A small clay centipede crawled out of the mouth on my free hand, snaking across the floor while he was distracted. "Katsu!" I shouted, detonating the clay and blowing a hole in the fragile wall of the shrine.

He landed in front of the cloud of smoke, straightening up and looking down as something wrapped itself around his ankle, before it wrapped itself around his entire body, pinning his arms to his sides. I laughed at his confused expression. I had beat this guy, in what, two moves? I hadn't even broken a sweat! If this was Akatsuki, then they were way weaker than I expected.

"Is that it, or are you just all talk?" I jeered, smile plastered across my face. "It's over, un!" I made a hand seal, preparing to blow the shit out of the guy.

"Take a closer look at yourself," He said, his face returned to its expressionless boredom.

I looked down, only to see the centipede wrapped tightly around my own body, and he was completely free. I struggled a little within my own restraints. How was this even possible?

"Just in time. If we'd waited any longer, you would have blown yourself up," The tallest figure said.

"I told you this kid is the type that dies young," The shortest figure growled in his low voice. Surely that should go without saying, but if I was going to die young, then I was going out with a bang! Not at the hands of some freaky-eyed bastard. I considered my options. I could detonate the centipede and die, or I could join Akatsuki.

"Fine. Whatever. It's not like I had anything better to do, un," I dispelled the centipede letting it fall to the ground as a useless lump of shrinking clay. I suddenly felt rather humbled; this guy had beaten me in about thirty seconds, without really trying. "Genjutsu? When?"

"From the start. From the moment you looked into Itachi's Sharingan, you were caught in his genjutsu," The blue guy explained.

So that's what it was. The Sharingan. One of the famous ones, the one that could replicate any technique and hypnotise opponents with simple eye contact. There was a reason it was famous; not many people walked away from it in a serious life or death battle. Using it, Itachi had defeated me without any real effort at all. I felt some kind of grudging respect towards his skills, but the larger part of me responded to the challenge; I would get better, and I would develop my art into something more fantastic.

"We're leaving. I have work to do back at the base," The short guy said, turning and walking away slowly. The others turned to follow, and I jogged after them.

"What kind of work, un?" I asked. At this point, there wasn't really any point in being a bitch about it. At least, not to any of them except Itachi. There was no way in hell I could do that. He defeated me; I felt obliged to be a bitch to him.

"You'll find out soon enough, since you're supposed to be his partner," The blue guy reached a hand up, absent mindedly stroking the hilt of the wrapped sword strapped to his back. At least, I assumed it was a sword. Considering this was Akatsuki, it could be anything as long as it was powerful.

"So who are you? Tall, dark and brooding is Itachi, but who are you two, un?"

"I'm Kisame, Itachi's partner, and that's Sasori. You're his new partner, after Itachi scared the hell out of the last one," He waved a hand in the short guy's general direction, who grunted in assent.

"What happened to him?"

"Tried to steal Itachi's body," I quirked an eyebrow, a little confused. That sounded a little…dodgy. "You've heard of Orochimaru, right?"

"Creepy paedophile guy, international criminal, big on human experimentation, yeah?"

"That's the one. He tried to steal Itachi's body for the Sharingan, but Itachi trapped him in a genjutsu and cut off his hand. He ran away screaming like a little girl,"

"He wasn't like a little girl, Kisame. It was unfortunate that he left; he was a valuable asset. I sent a spy after him, but I assume Orochimaru already discovered and killed my agent since I haven't heard from him in a long time," Sasori spoke up.

"Valuable asset?" I asked

"He was a good ninja, if very-"

"Twisted? Disturbing? Crazy?" Kisame pointed out, ticking traits off his fingers.

"Just because he was odd didn't make him less of a good ninja. I don't care what my partners are like as long as they're strong. Hell, if they're weak I'll kill them myself. I could always do with a few more Akatsuki wannabes for my collection," Grim amusement crept into his voice, a sinister aura emanating from his small frame.

"You collect people? What the hell is your hobby, un?" I asked, suddenly worried. Was I next?

"I make puppets,"

"Ah, so you're an artist too, un!" I smiled. Maybe I'd met another great artist, and we could work together to make a real impact on the world. Yes, through Akatsuki, I could spread my art throughout the world, and create the most beautiful explosions of all time. If Sasori was an artist, surely he'd understand.

"No, I am an artist; you are a child with a bad habit for blowing things up. You won't last a day in Akatsuki,"

"I _am_ an artist, un! I'll prove it!" The level of my voice rose with annoyance. I did not have a bad habit for blowing things up, that was all a part of my art! No, that was my art, art in its purest form, bright energy from the beautiful explosion. Who did this guy think he was?

"What, by blowing shit up? That isn't art. Art is eternal, lasting for generations to come, not some flashy explosion,"

"What? No, art is fleeting and transient, there one second and gone the next, yeah! That's what art _really_ is,"

"You're too much of a brat to understand. When – _if_ – you grow up, you'll realise I'm right," He growled, waving a hand dismissively.

"No way, un! I'm definitely right, and those lucky enough to see my art will remember it forever!" I dug out a handful of clay, concealing it behind my back in my palm, kneading chakra into it. Not only was it a brilliant offensive weapon, but it was great stress relief.

"Yeah, if they aren't blown up in the process,"

"That's what makes my art really special, yeah, 'cause it transcends three dimensions! It lives forever in the fourth dimension of the human mind,"

"You clearly don't even understand the true meaning of art, brat. Art mimics human life, and to control that life is the greatest, most perfect form of art. To make it last forever defeats the ultimate human obstacle, death, thus becoming art in its most beautiful form," He lectured. Human nature? Why would art have anything to do with _that_? Human nature was cruel and disgusting, why capture that for all eternity? It's better just to blow it all up.

"Art has nothing to do with human nature, un. It's all to do with-"

"Alright, that's enough. Argue about it later, you're doing my head in," Kisame interrupted. Itachi nodded, silently agreeing with Kisame.

"Fine, un. But my art is still better!"

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

**A/N: They haven't known each other for five minutes and already they're arguing about art! It's classic, no? I found this incredibly hard to write. It's currently twenty past one in the morning, and I have to get up for church in a few hours. Yay… still, if I fall asleep during mass and dream about yaoi, I think I'm going straight to hell on principal. But in the mean time, I'll write you some more! Reviews make me happy :3 Pretty please with a cherry on top?**


	4. Fit In

**You're Falling – Chapter 4: Fit In**

**A/N: Wow, are we really only on chapter four? It feels like this has been going on forever…mostly because it has. I had the concept down since before I had half finished 'Buried Alive'. And then after the concept, I did the planning, and then research, and then the chapter balancing, and then some more research. Oh, and did I mention I have literally no free time anymore? I come home from school some days at five o'clock, almost always have at least two hours of prep work, which gives me one hour to eat with my family and two hours (or more, if I sleep less) to write. So you guys are killing me, slowly but surely. I can feel my body getting sick as I type this. I'll be out with flu by Wednesday, I swear…But anyway, I rather love writing, so I don't mind :3 sacrificing my own body isn't so bad, considering. Sacrificing my mind would be much worse. My eyes are already fucked as it is…my family has a really bad history with eyesight, and like all the other women my eyesight is declining through my teens…Oh good, I really needed a new pair of glasses. Song of the chapter is Teenagers by My Chemical Romance – it's epic live :D**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warnings: Swearing. Cursing. Foul language. Whatever you want to call it, I've got it written in here because a certain character turns up. If it offends you now, go run back home to mummy. If it does not offend you, then stick around. It gets worse. There will be sex at some point, yay! Who doesn't love a good bit of sex? Well, priests and nuns and me, but other than that…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Now I'm done not-plagiarising the anime, we can get onto the good stuff. Yay. Because plagiarism is bad, kids. Masashi Kishimoto owns it all and no matter how many voodoo curses I attempt I will never own Naruto. But that's probably a good thing, since I'd just insist all the characters talk out their problems over tea and biscuits. It would probably solve quite a few issues, actually.**

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_They said that teenagers scare the living shit out of me_

_They could care less as long as someone'll bleed_

_So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose_

_Maybe they'll leave you alone_

_But not me_

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

"Well, here we are. Welcome home, brat," Sasori said with a lazy flourish of an arm.

In front of me was a rock. Nothing special, just one rock in a small cluster of other rocks, all big and grey and rock-like. I raised an eyebrow. Akatsuki lived in a rock?

"Am I supposed to be impressed or something, un?" I asked. Sasori sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Not the rock, under the rock, brat. Of course we don't live in the rock, that would be stupid," He paused, casting a sideways glance at me. "Oh wait, you already did that,"

"My safe house was fine, un! It was perfectly adequate!" I crossed my arms and pouted childishly, stopping short of flipping my hair. My old safe house was perfect for my needs; dark, enclosed, slightly damp…maybe he had a point.

"I think you'll find our safe houses a little better equipped," He turned to face Kisame. "Would you like to do the honours?"

"Sure," Kisame pushed back his sleeves, and with a little too much flourish formed a series of hand seals. Half of the rock faded before my eyes, disappearing into thin air to reveal a long hole in the ground with a set of stairs leading down. "After you,"

Sasori stepped forward, gesturing backwards for me to follow. I stepped carefully down the stairs, the darkness enclosing me all too quickly. The steps were rough under my feet, crumbling and slippery in turn. Small patches of bioluminescent plants glowed softly on the wall, casting enough light to turn Sasori's figure into something sinister and terrifying. His hunched figure slunk down the stairs with the gait of someone in their sixties; if this guy was supposed to be my partner, he must be incredibly strong to have lasted so long as a missing nin.

Suddenly, the rough steps were replaced with neatly carved stairs, and chakra-laced lamps replaced the plants. Sasori was once again the short, lumpy figure jerking down the stairs in front of me, and I could see exactly where I was stepping. The narrow staircase widened out, enough to take two people to a step, but I didn't increase my pace.

"Hey, Kakuzu! Money-fucker, get your ass out here! The other bastards are fucking back! And they brought the new bitch with them!" A voice from called from somewhere in the distance. I raised an eyebrow. How many expletives was that in how many sentences?

"That's Hidan. Just ignore him and let us do the talking," Kisame said from behind me. I nodded once, letting myself drop off the final step. The corridor in front of me was well lit and spacious, the floor set with dark grey flagstones, although I couldn't say much for the wallpaper.

Two sets of footsteps approached; one calm and even, the other erratic and excitable. I was guessing the uneven footsteps were from the voice from before.

"Seriously, don't say anything," Sasori warned. "Hidan's kind of-"

"Fucking epic! That's what!" A figure wearing the classic Akatsuki robe with a shock of silver hair rounded the corner, dragging a rather bored and irritated looking masked guy with him.

"A moron, is what he meant to say," The annoyed guy said, punching the first guy none too gently on the arm.

"Hey, you money loving bastard! I'm fuckin' epic, don't deny it!"

"The loudmouth is Hidan, and the other man is Kakuzu," Sasori explained, walking past them. "Keep up. Hidan is our resident idiot, but he's immortal, part of the reason we keep him around. Try not to get yourself sacrificed to his ridiculous god."

"Jashin is not ridiculous, you heathen fucker!" Hidan shouted. Seriously, did he have only one volume setting?

The deeper we got into the base, the colder it got. The flagstones transitioned into wood, and the wallpaper slowly got more and more ghastly. It looked like there was a practical reason for the Akatsuki cloaks, after all.

"And Kakuzu deals with the finances of the organisation. Don't break anything, don't destroy anything, don't cost him any money, and you'll get along fine," Sasori stopped outside a door, pausing to look back at me.

"Sasori, you motherfucker, you didn't tell us your new partner was a hot chick!" Hidan gushed loudly, slinging an arm around my shoulders. Kakuzu glared. I grit my teeth, using every ounce of willpower not to blow the entire base up.

"Hidan-"

"Maybe this fucking organisation can finally have a bitch around who does something other than make fuck-me eyes at Pein constantly, and bitch about-"

"I'm a guy, you idiot!" I shouted over him, moving forward quickly to walk next to Sasori. "I'm obviously a guy, un!"

"I swear to Jashin, your fucking hair is longer than Itachi-fucking-Uchiha's and Konan-bitch's put together! And you're wearing fucking eyeliner!" He pointed wildly to my hair any my eyes. My fingers twitched towards my clay pouch. Just one bomb, one hand seal and one little word, and this moron would shut up.

"I can wear eyeliner if I want, un," I said defensively, one hand reaching up to comb my fingers through my hair. I _liked_ my hair. And there was nothing wrong with wearing eyeliner. In fact, a lot of guys wear eyeliner, so it's hardly abnormal. I knew I looked like a girl, but not _that_ much. I had a very masculine figure.

"And what the fuck is with the 'un' thing? Are you retarded or something?"

"Of course he's not retarded, you imbecile. Do you really think Leader-sama would let someone like that join?" Kakuzu spoke up from the back, eyes glaring holes in the back of Hidan's head.

"Well, he let Hidan in, didn't he?" Sasori quipped, and everyone chuckled except Hidan who let out a string of curses. "Anyway, we shouldn't question Leader-sama's decisions. He wanted Deidara, so we got Deidara. End of story,"

The corridor ended with another door, which Sasori quickly pushed open. A wide, spacious kitchen lay behind it, counters and work surfaces sparklingly clean. A huge fridge-freezer stood opposite an oven and a pair of sinks, the walls lined with shelves covered in glasses, crockery and cutlery. A long wooded table sat in the middle, with a bowl of fruit invitingly set in the middle. I was suddenly very hungry.

"Help yourself," Kisame said as he pushed past me, reaching for a glass from one of the shelves.

"Break anything and it comes out of the budget for food," Kakuzu grumbled. He leaned against the wall, still glaring daggers at Hidan, who had rushed forward to dig through one of the cupboards. "What the hell are you looking for, Hidan?"

"Fuckin' found it!" He stood up straight, waving a bottle over his head triumphantly. "You fucking remember that time when we went to that town and fucked those bitches up good? Yeah? Well, I still have some of their fucking booze left over!"

"Drink a drop of that and I will remove your head from your body and seal it in a box for a week," Kakuzu pushed away from the wall and pulled the bottle out of Hidan's hand, placing it firmly on the counter.

"But 'Kuzu, you're so much more fun when you're shit-faced!" Hidan wailed, grabbing for the bottle.

"You're just trying to get me to sleep with you again," Kakuzu stashed the bottle back in the cupboard, closing the door sharply.

"But 'Kuzu-"

"It's the middle of the night, and we have to be up in the morning for a briefing,"

"But 'Kuzu-"

"_Bed_, Hidan. For _sleeping_ in." He seized Hidan's wrist and began to pull him out of the kitchen, casting a despairing glance over his shoulder at the pouting immortal.

"You're no fucking fun,"

After Hidan and Kakuzu left, everything was much quieter and more peaceful. I took an apple out of the fruit bowl, taking a bite out of the juicy flesh. Gods, it had been too long since I'd had a good apple. Itachi had disappeared sometime while Kakuzu and Hidan were arguing, and Kisame was fishing something out of the fridge. Only Sasori stood still, watching me eat.

"Aren't you going to have anything, un?" I asked, picking an orange out of the fruit bowl and waving it in his general direction. Fresh fruit was delicious. Before, on my limited budget from the terrorist jobs I'd done, I hadn't had much opportunity to buy good fruit, or any good food for that matter. Most of my money had gone on clay, which was certainly a worthy expense, but that didn't mean I didn't miss eating well.

"I don't eat, brat," He said, looking quickly away at the opposite wall. I glanced at the patch he was staring at; there wasn't anything special about the wall, so why was he staring at it so intently?

"Why?" I replied, curious.

"My body no longer needs it," He paused, as if considering something difficult. "This isn't my actual form, merely my puppet armour," He admitted, voice gruff. So this wasn't what he actually looked like? Did that mean everything about him was different?

"So what do you actually look like, un?" I asked. I set my fruit down and turned to face him, looking expectantly at him. I was actually getting curious now; if this shell was part of his art of puppetry, then it was impressive. I couldn't even tell that it wasn't alive, never mind a puppet.

"Fine," He grunted, drawing the puppet up and angling the underside towards the wall. The Akatsuki cloak parted, a panel pushing out from under it. A slim figure hopped out of the cavity, landing gracefully on the floor. He straightened up and turned to face me. Messy red hair, drowsy brown eyes and even, handsome features looked back at me.

Sasori was…hot.

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

**A/N: Hooray! I absolutely love writing Hidan, he's so fun to write…just thinking of enough swear words that aren't too British is a challenge in itself! So, anyone out there read Buried Alive? You remember that thing about the wallpaper…hehe…Lol, I'm so sad I have in-jokes with myself! Anyone else find Sasori's eyes eminently sexy? It's like 'bedroom eyes' is the default setting! But anyway, I am exhausted, so I'll bow out for the night :3 reviews mean you get an extra delicious dose of almost-hallowe'en cheer!**


	5. Master

**You're Falling – Chapter 5: Master**

**A/N: I'm back! Again! And I'm once again dying. Because that' just how I roll, baby. Partly because I had a rather trying day, being lab partner to a wannabe Casanova, fending off his retarded and ridiculous advances, while trying to do a rather complex experiment. I didn't have my dumb-as-a-rock normal partner because she was off doing something lame, so I got paired with the bastard because he dislocated his shoulder and needed a fucking genius to do all the work for him…if I wasn't pissed off, I might actually be flattered. Rant rant rant. Anyway, my stupid personal rant over, we're back to delicious SasoDei! Last chapter we had some actually rather adorable Kakuzu x Hidan moments, and enough swearing to tide me over until the next time Hidan appears…yay, I have to think of more ways to swear. Oh good. I'm afraid I couldn't update last night on account of physically collapsing shortly after finishing the latest chapter to my other fic while I was making tea. My parents took away my laptop, so I couldn't write. The next day, I was just tired. Did I mention this is my second-priority fic? FYI, I have no obligation to update, I don't owe you anything, yadda yadda yadda, but I do try. I really do try very hard. Better than one update a week/month, no? But anyway, my lame excuses over, here's your chapter! Song of the chapter is 'Master of Puppets'. Dude, it's a chapter about Sasori, how could I have anything **_**less**_**?**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warnings: Hidan's gone this chapter, so the language suddenly becomes comparatively very tame. Generic warning for British English spellings because I'm British English, so don't nag me for saying 'colour' instead of 'color' or whatever. 'Color' looks too much like 'colon' to me, for some reason :S But it's all good. No yaoi yet!**

**Disclaimer: I don't make a profit from writing this fanfic, since the product Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me. This means I am not fabulously wealthy; if I was, I wouldn't have to nag my parents for cash so much, I would be able to go on lovely holidays abroad and I would buy my brother a new brain. Because he's a moron. Oh, and I'd buy myself some fabulous jewels :D I never wear cubic zircona ;) accept only the finest, ladies!**

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings_

_Twisting your mind, smashing your dreams_

_Blinded by me, you can't see a thing_

_Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream_

_Master_

_Master_

_Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream_

_Master_

_Master_

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

The rest of the Akatsuki was fairly basic; one communal living room, one meeting room, and various bedrooms for partners. There were a set of indoor sparring rooms, complete with target dummies and sound-proofing. A small medical bay rested close to the sparring rooms, just in case. One whole wing was devoted to the mysterious Leader-sama's quarters. I was more than a little anxious to meet this guy – if he was the big boss of the organisation, he had to be ridiculously powerful.

Instead, Sasori lead me down a different corridor. I memorised the twists and turns, the warren-like structure of the base screwing with my mind. It was definitely too big for about ten people.

Sasori was still a mystery to me. He didn't say much, and didn't reveal much about himself when he did speak. From what I had seen, he was passively good at acting; I hadn't realised that puppet wasn't his true form until he had told me, and proved it. To control a puppet so finely was a very impressive skill. Every motion was lifelike, every move fine and smooth. It was certainly an art form in itself. This immense level of control would make him a formidable opponent on the battle field.

"Do all partners share rooms, or is it just us, un?" I asked. I was hoping sharing wasn't going to be so bad. Sasori didn't seem like a _bad_ person to have to live with. He wasn't particularly loud, or annoying, just kind of snarky. I could probably live with that.

"Kakuzu and Hidan share, mostly because Hidan can't live without Kakuzu fucking him into a wall at regular intervals. Itachi gets his own room for some reason, which means Kisame gets his own room. Leader-sama obviously gets his own room." He considered something for a moment, a small smirk twisting his lips. "Konan gets her own room because she's a woman, although I wouldn't be surprised if she spent the night in Leader-sama's rooms more often than not,"

"So Leader-sama and Konan are…?" I grinned. Gossip was such a guilty pleasure, apparently even among international criminals. Besides, the more I knew about these people before I met them, the better. They obviously knew all about me, so I was at a severe disadvantage.

"You'll understand when you see it. The air is so full of sexual tension you could cut it with a knife," The smirk faded a little, and the temperature dropped. I rubbed my arms, trying to generate a bit of heat.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing or a kind of okay thing, un?"

"Generally a good thing. It keeps them both occupied," He stopped outside a door and paused to look at me. "Just a word of warning; if you touch any of my puppetry equipment, I will not hesitate to kill you. Understand?"

"Uh, yeah," Okay, maybe this wasn't going to be so great.

One pale hand pushed open the door, and he disappeared through it. I walked around to look through the open door, taking in the room. Two beds, pushed to the extreme back of the room with nothing but a tiny bedside table separating them, one chest of drawers, and a series of benches occupied most of the room. On top of the benches were saws, knives, scalpels, needles and other sharp-looking implements. A pile of wood stood in a corner, stood up straight with a small note placed on top. A black cloak rested on top of one of the beds, presumably mine. Discarded clothes and wood chips and even dried puddles of blood covered the floor.

"How the hell am I supposed to live in this room, un?" I said loudly. My eyes were drawn to a rather sinister blood spatter across the wall above my bed. I really hoped that was an old blood stain.

"Like my last partner did. At least, before I killed him for being utterly useless," His tone seemed to imply something, and I was all too sure what. I really didn't have any plans in the near future that involved my death, but if I was going to die then I was going out with a proper bang. There was no way this guy was going to have the opportunity to use my corpse. Hell, I'd take him and half the base with me.

"Just how many partners do you get through, un?"

"Since Orochimaru, four," Even though I didn't know exactly how long ago that was, that wasn't too sinister. I walked into the room, carefully avoiding the bloodstains, stepping on clothes instead. I really didn't want blood on my shoes.

"Well, that's not so bad, I guess…" I said, flopping down on my bed. I pulled the cloak into my lap, weighing the heavy material in my hands. I'd really need some new clothes, too.

"None of them really made satisfactory puppets," He gestured vaguely towards the benches, and the tools set out on them. Suddenly, I understood his art.

"You made them into puppets, un?" Instead of being horrified, I was _fascinated_. This guy was all about eternal art, so preserving talents in the form of puppets that he controlled was genius. I wondered how far his abilities would stretch, considering the complexity of the human body, and what was replicable. It really was-

"What else would I do with the bodies? I wouldn't bother killing them if I didn't want their abilities to add to my collection, I'd just hand them over to Hidan or Zetsu,"

"Who is Zetsu?"

"Some kind of cannibalistic plant man. I don't really know much about him," Sasori pulled open a drawer, and removed a set of scrolls, placing them almost reverently on the desk. He performed a short set of hand seals, and a semi-preserved human arm appeared in place. My eyes widened a little. That wasn't a maggot I spotted, was it?

"Cannibalistic, un?" I asked, not quite sure I wanted to understand. Even among criminals there had to be a line somewhere, and I wasn't sure where cannibalism sat on it.

"He's useful for disposing bodies,"

"Ah," That made sense. Cold, calculating, and pragmatic. Three good ninja traits. "Show me your art," I said spontaneously, surprising myself. I wanted to see more of it. Naturally, my art was superior, pure, true art, but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate someone else's work. Mine was just better.

Rolling his lidded eyes, Sasori performed another set of hand seals and suddenly, I was pinned to the bed by a dozen hard wooden hands. I froze up, one hand grasping for my clay pouch, but a hand reached out and grabbed my arm and held it still. The puppets all smelled like oil and blood, their cold, blank faces looking at me from within the soulless shells they were. Instead of struggling, I lay still and let them hold me down.

Behind them, Sasori stared down at me, one eyebrow raised as if he was expecting me to scream or something. Well, I wasn't giving him the satisfaction. I grinned.

"Is that the best you can do, _Sasori no Danna_?" I called mockingly.

"Not even close, brat," Another scroll, another set of hand seals, and more hands pressed down on me, puppets piling up all against the walls.

Then, as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished, banished back into their scrolls and tucked away neatly in a drawer. I felt very stupid, lying tensed on the bed with a grin on my face.

"And that, brat," He smirked. "Is why my art is far superior to yours. If you were in my place, you would have blown me up and wasted a perfectly good partner,"

"So you admit I'm good, un?" I let my smile widen more naturally, rolling over onto my front to face him properly. There was a twinkle of amusement in his droopy eyes, a series of chakra strings hanging loosely from raised fingertips.

"I never denied it," His smirk grew. My eyes widened, following the lines of the chakra strings to the corners of-

"Danna, you bastard!" I squeaked as I was tipped roughly onto the floor as my bed was upended. "I'm gonna get you back for that, un!" I surged forward, reaching out playfully as chakra strings attached themselves to my clothes and held me back.

"In your dreams, brat."

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

**A/N: And that is how the whole 'Sasori no Danna' thing came about. A little shorter than I would have liked, but I didn't want to drag it out too much. Besides, I have two exams tomorrow :O and I need to study. I'm sorry for not updating…yes, I'm a horrible bitch and everything, but I'm a very busy horrible bitch. Right here I'm going to remind you that on Sunday the 23****rd**** of October to Thursday the 27****th**** of October, I am going to be on a trip to Iceland, so I won't be able to update because I won't have internet. So I'm sorry in advance :P I'll try to update more regularly after as well, since I've been a bit useless these last couple of days. Oh well, review! Makes me happy! Gives me incentive to write! Do it!**


	6. On My Mind

**You're Falling – Chapter 6: On My Mind**

**A/N: I would like to start with this: I am very sorry for not updating for ages. Allow me to lay my excuses at your feet. First of all, between the 23****rd**** and 27****th**** I was on a study tour to Iceland, ergo accessing internet was impossible. I had absolutely zero mobile network in all of Iceland, including in Reykjavik, the capital city. Second of all, this is my secondary fic, so I usually write it after I've written a chapter of my primary fic, and I've been very tired recently so writing has been more difficult. Third, I was feeling a bit uninspired for this fic. It's got a very different mood to my other fics, not as upbeat and perky as TGTYEL or as morbidly depressed as 'Buried Alive', so it's harder to get into the right mind frame or mood. Oh, on the note of 'Buried Alive', there will definitely be a sequel! If you're a fan of that fic, then eventually (after Christmas, maybe) I will begin writing the sequel. If you're not, go check out 'Buried Alive' because it's epic. Shameless self promotion over, I am still very sorry so don't kill me (I'm a fucking awesome ninja, I'd like to see you try xD I jest, I jest…I'm just a bloody good martial artist – learning to use throwing weapons :D:D:D). Anyway, song of the chapter is 'The Good Life' by Three Days Grace, one of the epic-est bands I know. Although this may not be the most applicable song ever, I'm a little stuck xD**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warnings: Not really anything. As per usual, no delicious hardcore yaoi for a while because I don't write random porn, although I probably could. Not that I want to…hehe. No, instead of writing random porn, I write specific porn. Specifically yaoi porn. Actually, I write erotica. Yeah, erotica…Generic warnings for swearing and British language spellings, so don't point that out. Not like anyone usually does, but I just thought I'd throw it out there…Oh, and Hidan warning. I think he gets his own special brand of warning, just for being Hidan.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the sexy, sexy guys from Naruto. If I did…well, although slavery is illegal in the twenty-first century, I think I'd have to make them slaves so they'd do exactly what I want…unless they complied with my wishes of their own free will and made out with each other on request…and other things. Hehe. No, you pervert, I was referring to having them paint my kitchen! What did you think I meant? Shock horror!**

oO..Oo..oO..Oo

_I don't really know who I am_

_It's time for me to take a stand_

_I need a change and I need it fast_

_I know that any day could be the last_

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"So," I started. I was bored. Incredibly, mind-numbingly, soul-destroying-ly bored. It had been four hours since I arrived, but for an elite criminal organisation, Akatsuki was awfully dull. Naturally, as my partner, it was Sasori's job to entertain me. "Tell me something interesting, un,"

"If one places a small amount of alcohol on a scorpion, it will immediately go mad and sting itself to death," Sasori said, his voice peppered with irritation. He didn't look up from his desk, his fingers still flowing over the severed arm. He had been working on that one limb for _hours_, and it was actually starting to smell. I had considered asking him nicely to put it away and resume work on it when I wasn't around, but I didn't get the impression that it was likely. If it wasn't apparently so important, the arm would probably end up thrown at me.

"Not really the kind of thing I was going for, un. Tell me something about yourself, Danna," Anything other than random factoids about bugs. People were much more interesting than bugs, and Sasori was certainly intriguing.

"Only if you start, brat,"

"Fine, un. My name is Deidara, I am sixteen years old, and I have blond hair. And you?" I said. I started small in the hopes he would spill it all without much contribution from me. I didn't really want to talk about myself; I wasn't particularly comfortable with it.

"If you're expecting my life story based on that series of incredibly useless and painfully obvious facts, you're going to have to try harder," He replied. One corner of his mouth rose slightly, seeing through my lame attempts to pull information with as little effort as possible.

"I was born in Iwagakure," I offered.

"I was born in Sunagakure,"

"I was a part of the Explosion Corps before I left," I rolled over onto my back on the bed, tilting my head back to look at him. He didn't even look up as he answered, still working on the arm with light, deft movements. It was actually rather mesmerising.

"I was a part of the Puppet Brigade," No surprises there, then.

"I hate mixed rice," I changed the subject, hoping to draw out something non-ninja related. Non-ninja related was probably more personal, and that was what I was aiming for.

"I don't eat," He replied blankly.

"Why?" This time, he actually did turn around, momentarily stopping his work to raise a delicate eyebrow at me.

"I thought we had already established this, brat, or are you just dim?" He asked, talking to me like I was a complete idiot. I didn't get it; why wouldn't he eat? Normal people ate food, and normal people liked different kinds of food. It was a very reasonable question. Had I missed something?

"I'm not dim, Danna, un! Who the hell uses the word 'dim' anyway? I swear no one under the age of fifty uses that word, un!" I retorted.

"I'm not quite fifty but I'm certainly older than you,"

"But Danna, you look about twelve!" I looked him up and down. I knew he was slightly shorter than me, which made him short for a guy, and he didn't exactly have the world's most masculine features. His nose and eyes were distinctly feminine, well-crafted and soft, but not exactly youthful. I couldn't imagine his eyes being youthful. Admittedly, the drowsy look made him seem older, but everything else was very young.

"I'm thirty two," Sasori said shortly.

"What the hell! But you look younger than me, un!" I exclaimed, rolling over onto my front, just catching myself before I rolled off the bed. My feet waggled in the air excitedly, my eyes widening with disbelief.

"I don't, brat. You should consider getting your eyes checked," He turned back to his work, picking up a small silver scalpel with delicate fingers and whittling away at the decaying arm. I resisted the temptation to blow the thing up, but being sprayed with rotting flesh didn't seem entirely appealing. The blast might also damage Sasori, which might be a bad move in the long run.

"My eyes are fine, un!" I defended. I had perfect vision in both eyes; any less would prevent me from seeing the full wonder of my art. The afterglow of an explosion burning into my vision was one of the best parts, right after the colour and the sound and the blast.

"Your ridiculous hair covers a whole side of your face, yet you use ranged attacks. If my information is correct, it conceals an adjustable scope. I suggest you set it to a more normal range; I do not look younger than you," I picked up a strand of blond, twiddling it between my fingers. It wasn't ridiculous, was it? I liked my hair, it was unique and unusual. And it was a good cover for my scope, too, which made it practical. Yes, it required a lot of upkeep, and yes, it got very tangled when it was windy, but it was still nice and I still liked it. I pouted a little; it was _not_ ridiculous.

"Anyway, how can you look like that and be thirty two, un? Thirty two is ancient!" I refrained from commenting about my hair, instead pointing out the obvious flaw in his claim. There was no way he could be thirty two. Thirty two year olds were taller, and had the beginnings of wrinkles. They weren't short, red headed and _cute_.

"You're barely out of the cradle yourself, brat," A small chunk of flesh came flying my way. I dodged it, grimacing as I picked it off the wall above my bed. So _that_ was how the blood stains got there.

"I'm perfectly mature, un!" I raised my palms either side of my head, sticking all three tongues out at him. Take _that_!

"My point proven,"

"You're so mean to me, Danna! I'm just trying to have a normal conversation with you, un! Is that really so bad?" I pouted, rolling over again. My hair got caught under my shoulder rather painfully. Maybe I should consider tying it back.

"I'm trying to work over here, and I don't have a lot of time until the majority of this corpse becomes completely unworkable. So shut your mouth and let me work in peace," He snapped, fingers moving a little more briskly with irritation.

"But Danna-" I wailed, interrupted as the door banged open loudly. Sasori visibly winced as the plaster of the wall cracked a little around where the handle had hit it.

"Whoa, a fuckin' lover's spat already?" Hidan appeared in the doorway, hands on his hips, grinning at us with a knowing look in his eyes. Kakuzu was close behind him, a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, god," Sasori muttered, setting down the scalpel. His fingers twitched again, like he was actively resisting the temptation to plant the scalpel directly between Hidan's eyes.

"Yeah, praise Jashin, you motherfuckers! But seriously, you bitches haven't known each other for what, half a fucking day and you're already acting like you're married. Learn to get the fuck along with each other, okay?" Hidan's smile drooped a little, and Kakuzu's hand gripped his shoulder tighter, holding him back. The room was small enough with just Sasori and me in it.

"If we do, will you stop shouting and go away?" One finger crept along the handle of the scalpel, caressing the cold blade. My eyes were fixed to that digit, the finger pale against the shiny metal. It made me think of something, but I couldn't remember what exactly.

"Not a fucking chance!" Hidan yelled, smile picking up again. One of his hands lifted to cover Kakuzu's.

"Then why are you here?"

"Uh-"

"Leader-sama wants to see the both of you, now. I wouldn't keep him waiting," Kakuzu interrupted, actively pulling back on Hidan's shoulder, trying to remove him from the room. I smiled appreciatively; I was getting a headache already.

"We should go then, Sasori no Danna," I said brightly, hopping up from the bed. Kakuzu failed in suppressing a snort. "What?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know that means 'husband', right?"

"What?" I replied, my voice completely flat. I meant 'Danna' as in 'master', not 'husband'! That was just-just-_obscene_! And completely unrealistic! For one, two men weren't allowed to get married in any of the nations, and it was actually very frowned upon to even be in that kind of relationship. Sasori was kind of good looking, yes, but I wouldn't marry him. He was thirty two, and I was sixteen! And he clearly had no interest in me, anyway.

"Hah, I fuckin' told you!" Hidan crowed, smirking at Kakuzu who gripped his shoulder painfully tightly in warning.

"Told him _what_?" I asked, somewhat worried.

"That you two are desperate to screw each other's brains out, that's what!" He grinned widely, announcing his theory to the whole base. I physically flinched; that was completely unfounded and completely untrue! I wasn't even sure I was going to survive the next few days, if the experiences of the last four of Sasori's partners were anything to go by, although I hoped I would.

"Don't be crude, Hidan," Sasori chided, giving me a sideways look that said _everything_. Even if I did want to do anything, which I _didn't_, I wouldn't have a hope in hell. Still, the feeling was mutual. I shot the same look back, to which Sasori raised an eyebrow.

"Don't bother, that's his default setting," Kakuzu pointed out, jerking Hidan out of the way of the door so we could leave the room.

It was time to meet Leader-sama.

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**A/N: So there you have it, more stuff happened! This was mostly a transitional chapter, so I can get the next part set up. It's kind of plot-necessary, so it had to happen. It also gave us a couple of cute/funny SasoDei moments, and an incredibly insightful (dare I suggest, possible yaoi fanboy?) Hidan and the much put-upon Kakuzu. More soon! Review! If you don't, I'm going to sacrifice you to Jashin!**


	7. What You Want

**You're Falling – Chapter 7: What You Want**

**A/N: Right, I think I owe it to you all to give you a once-and-for-all straight-out answer about my updating schedule. I have decided to update once a week, which was basically what I was doing before. Although I would absolutely love to update once every twenty four hours, I just don't have the time any more. I'm too busy with my school work, considering I have to be top three ranking for every subject I take, and all my other duties take up even more time, not to mention my extra-curricular activities. Oh, and TGTYEL is still going to be my primary fic. Once that is finished, probably in a number of weeks, 'You're Falling' will become my primary fic, but until then you'll have to settle for once-weekly updates. It's not that abnormal – it's actually more abnormal for updates every twenty four hours. Yes, it's annoying, but at least I'm giving you an update schedule rather than leaving you in the dark. Yes, I've lost readers for my slow updates, but I'm writing this for myself as much as you. Self-centred bitch-sounding rant over, we're on with the story! Can I repeat how sorry I am about not updating? You all understand, right? I'm a busy little woman, 'kay? Song of the chapter is 'What Do You Want From Me?' by Adam Lambert, because I'm stuck for ideas. This isn't a very thematic piece, so it's hard to pick songs!**

_This is thinking/dreaming._

This is regular story.

**This is author's note.**

**This is title**

**Warnings: Nothing of note, darlings. A little bit of language, maybe, but nothing of any note that's violent or really worthy of mention. But I'm mentioning it anyway because some people I know get weird about swearing and it's a habit…same applies to sex. There be no sex here! Generally, the lemon I have planned will not be what you are expecting. If you've read my Uchihacest fic, you might have a clue. If you haven't, trust me. You don't.**

**Disclaimer: It isn't mine, guys. I don't own any of the lovely (and not so lovely) gentlemen of Naruto fame, they all belong to Masashi Kishimoto – it's a little known fact that he keeps them chained up in his basement for personal pleasure when they aren't featuring in his manga…didn't know that, did ya? Haha, I kid…unfortunately. If they were real, I would have kidnapped them and put them in my dungeon of pleasure already.**

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_Yeah, there might have been a time_

_When I would let you slip away_

_I wouldn't even try_

_But I think you could save my life_

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"I'm sending you on a mission," The cloaked figure announced. He paced across the raised dais towards the back of the room, mostly shrouded in shadow. The pacing wasn't fast enough to be nervous; on the contrary, it was very casual and self-assured. This was a guy who knew he was in control. It was dark enough to completely obscure his features, although I thought I saw light reflecting off metal when he turned. I quirked an eyebrow at that; was he wearing a lot of jewellery? Wasn't that a bit girly?

"What? Already?" I squeaked, a little surprised. I hadn't been a part of Akatsuki for twenty four hours and I was already being asked, no, _ordered_, to risk my life for it. Wasn't that a bit excessive?

"Think of it as a test of loyalty," The figure paused in its pacing, turning to look at Sasori and me. "To both your partner and to Akatsuki. There is a reason I ensure every member has a partner, and it isn't just for assistance in battle,"

"But Sasori no Danna has already tried to kill me once, un!" I said loudly, shooting a pouting glance at the short figure next to me. He just looked back with an unreadable expression, a single eyebrow rising slowly.

"Please elaborate on Deidara's claim, Sasori," Leader-sama said, resuming his smooth back and forth movements.

"It was merely a test of strength. I was determining his reaction to imminent death, and he reacted…sufficiently," Sasori explained, eyes sweeping up and down my body. I resisted the urge to shiver; I hated being treated like an object or like a piece of meat. His look said it all; I was just another puppet until I proved myself.

"What do you mean, 'test of strength'? You pinned me to the bed, Danna!" I exclaimed. "And what would have happened if I had failed?" Although I thought I already knew.

"Killed you," He said shortly.

"See? Why are you sending us on a test of loyalty mission thing if I'm more at risk from my own partner than anyone else, un?"

"It's character building," Sasori said blankly, though I thought I could detect a note of amusement in his voice. He was hard to read, since I had known him for a number of hours, but I thought I might be getting a better hang of it. Or I would, provided I lasted long enough.

My loyalty to Akatsuki was already ensured by my defeat at Itachi's hands, even if I did feel more than a twinge of irritation about the method of recruitment. Still, it made more sense than trying to buy my services since I was steadily gaining a reputation for killing my employers. My loyalty to the organisation was also nicely ensured with the ever-implicit knowledge that even if I did somehow manage to escape, I would be hunted down and exterminated like vermin. On the basis that I fully intended to end my life on my own terms, that was a threat.

Death – the death of my targets, the death of my employers, and eventually my own death – all had to be on my terms. It was something I could control, something to feel break as soon as I detonated my bombs, something to revel in. I had control over my own life, and I wasn't about to let that go. The first years of my life, too many years in my opinion, were beyond my control, but I was my own person now. I could be in control and lose it all when I wanted.

"So what's the mission?" Sasori's calm voice broke my train of thought. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as one slim hand rose to brush an errant strand of hair out of his eyes.

That was when I noticed it. His sleeve slipped just enough to reveal _joints_ at his elbows. I have never thought to look for something like that before, since every movement he made was smooth and natural, but the joints were clearly not human. I recognised them from somewhere, from his puppet arsenal.

Sasori was a puppet.

I violently repressed the indignant shrieks that wanted to burst from my lips at the realisation, to ask exactly why he hadn't mentioned something so major sooner. Surely that's something obvious to tell your new partner, considering it would really affect battle strategies and all.

It did explain a lot, though. I felt a little stupid for not realising it, actually. That explained why he could be thirty two and still look about twelve, and why he didn't eat.

I also realised what it meant on an artistic level. Sasori no Danna had become his art, and that was the greatest achievement of all.

"Your mission is threefold; you will infiltrate the Daimyo's palace in the Land of Valleys and take a set of scrolls from the library. The current Daimyo is to be removed, and then replaced with the leader of an Akatsuki allied opposition group, known locally as Renzu. As this is your first mission, Deidara, I'm not giving you a time limit, although I expect you to have returned well within two months. Any questions?" Leader-sama spoke quickly and efficiently as though he was reading a shopping list instead of plans to steal and murder. I blanched a little at the mission; assassination already? That was more than a little hardcore for a first mission. It wasn't anything I hadn't done before, though, although the finer points of politics tended to escape me. Usually I just made beautiful artwork out of my targets and ran before anyone tried to stop me. "Leave within two hours. I expect this mission to go well; it is in your best interests not to disappoint me,"

"We'll leave immediately, Leader-sama," Sasori said. I shot him a look of mild outrage.

"What? I just got here, I have no possessions, and I'll run out of clay before long, un! We can't leave _immediately_," I said indignantly. "That's just _mmmf_!" I was forced to stop speaking when a solid, cold hand pressed over my mouth, and another started dragging me back by my collar.

"Come on, brat. We don't want to be late,"

"You're so mean to me, Danna!" I shrieked, working my way free of his hand. The other, though, stayed firmly latched onto my shirt, no matter how hard I twisted. "And how can we be late when we have two whole hours to get ready?"

"I fully expect you to procrastinate and hold me up, that's why,"

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**A/N: Yes, it's short. Yes, I'm a bitch. No, I don't have the time. Either way, you got your weekly chapter, and I promise next week will be longer. So bear with me until then :3**


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